


Come to Me

by SegaBarrett



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia reflects after Walt's phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NicoleAnell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleAnell/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own Breaking Bad, and I make no money from this.
> 
> Warning: Spoilers for the finale!

Lydia stared at the phone for a long time after she heard the click. Maybe she was hoping that Walt would call her back and say that he had only been screwing with her, that he hadn’t poisoned her at all but was simply trying to get her back for sending Todd to dispatch his wife to keep her quiet.

But she knew that wasn’t true. That was so bad a lie that even she couldn’t believe it. Walter White had come back and he had bested them all at last, even while looking like he had just stepped out of his own grave. 

How the hell had he gotten the upper hand? Where had she gone wrong.

She pressed her hand to her head and groaned, slipping out of her bedroom and moving into the bathroom before retching. This had been the fifth time this hour, and if what Walt had said was true – and she knew that bastard hadn’t been lying, maybe even before he had even opened his mouth – then there wasn’t any end in sight. She ought to get used to feeling like this until she mercifully went gentle into that good night.

Except it wasn’t merciful. It wasn’t right at all! She was the one with the business sense; she was the one who had it all worked out. He had no right to treat her like this – and yet, he had. And from what she was hearing on the news, Walt was dead, shot in that shoot-out with Jack’s crew. So she couldn’t even wage some kind of war against him in the end… She was beat, defeated… It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair. 

She would have to put her affairs in order. She couldn’t leave all these idiots to try and sort it out. They would fail Kiira, they would stick her in a group home and… Lydia couldn’t let her grow up the way that she did. She had spent her whole life climbing out of that hell, making sure that she donned all the perfect clothes and walked in the most professional way, that she was unimpeachable and unstoppable. She made sure that she was opaque, that no one would ever be able to look at her and see the little girl who wore thrift store clothes and shared a mattress with three other girls. Who cried herself to sleep at night because her parents had both abandoned her without a cent, without a clue or a goodbye.

Lydia would never let Kiira feel that way. Even if Kiira was angry, even if she felt some kind of rage, or wanted revenge or something like that – it was hard to imagine sweet little Kiira angry about anything, though, much as Lydia tried to picture it – at least she would know that Lydia had been taken from her, rather than going willingly, rather than leaving home and walking into prison or catching a plane or a bus and not leaving a forwarding address.

Maybe she needed to work something out, make some calls. There wasn’t even any maybe about it; she needed to forget about the lethargy brought on by the poison and make sure that no matter what happened to her, Kiira didn’t end up in some group home. She didn’t have any family, and Kiira’s father was long since dead, so there weren’t any leads there. 

She racked her brain and only came up with one answer, one possibility.

Delores. Her nanny loved Kiira, adored her, treated her as if she was her own. Admittedly, not exactly a person with lofty employment, but Lydia could fix that. She had, after all, more money than she knew what to do with. And Delores could take Kiira and just disappear… even if Lydia’s crime caught up with her memory, Kiira would be long since gone.

That thought was kind of heartbreaking, actually. That in a few years time, she wouldn’t remember Lydia at all.

She rubbed at her eyes. It was all growing hazy and it was hard to even walk, but she had to fix this. She had to find a way. 

She picked up her phone, the same one she had used to try and call Todd. Todd, who was dead now… Like she would be, soon. It was an odd thought, not altogether uncomfortably. She could let the tension out at last. She had been holding on to it as long as she could remember, not something a mere massage could have ever helped, though God knew her late husband had tried once or twice.

Maybe, if there was an afterlife, she would be going to be with him; she hoped not, she had never really liked him much and he’d probably hold quite a bit against her. So what, though? What did she care?

She had only ever done what she had needed to in order to survive, as much as any person would have done. It wasn’t her fault that people had gotten caught up in it. It was a dangerous game, but who ever played it safe and won out in the end? Certainly not her parents or her husband or anyone else she encountered – high risk meant high reward and that was the only way that businesses were successful.

But what about families? She wondered that as she put the phone back down and walked towards Kiira’s room. She would get everything settled, everything put into place in just a moment. The universe needed to give her just a minute.

She slowly opened the door and made her way inside Kiira’s room. The little girl was sleeping on her side with her tiny face mashed up against the pillow, eyes closed and clutching a stuffed teddy bear. Lydia hadn’t bought her that bear, it had probably been Delores again, and Lydia realized with a mix of comfort and empty horror that she probably didn’t need to tell the nanny to come get Kiira, raise Kiira, to do what she’d really been doing all along.

Lydia shook her head. She was tired now and she figured it wouldn’t hurt to rest her eyes just a moment. She reached down and picked up a pillow that had fallen to the floor, and a little blanket, one of about four that had been on Kiira’s little bed. She placed them on the floor and curled up, thinking about how Kiira had always wanted to sleep in Lydia’s bed when she had been younger… younger… she was five, how much younger could she be?

There must have been a time when that stopped, when Lydia had been away too often in New Mexico, with Walter White and his crazy business; she should have just stayed with Gus. Gus had understood. He had understood a lot of things.

With a shuddering breath, Lydia let her eyes slip shut as she fell into a deep sleep.


End file.
